Category: Stories

Disobeys Restriction

I imagine the city connects infinite layers of networks to defy.

Shaping the superficial modern metropolis by placing social fabric onto stitched architectural frames.

p1130459

“I operate as a man-machine interface.”[1]

The cyborg self within me emerges along the cities edges,

I hack the surface of space configurations.

p1130463

I am the seeking stranger of urban life who needs to disobey restriction;

feeling disconnected in a rebellious reunion of public and private outlines.

p1130464

I wander off the ordered path and find a more uncertain line of direction.

p1130452

copyright © Olsen 2016

[1] “I operate as a man-machine interface – that is, as a technological form of natural life – because I must necessarily navigate through technological forms of social life. As technological nature, I must navigate through technological culture. And technological culture is constitutively culture at a distance. Forms of life become forms of life at-a-distance. Because my forms of social life are so normally and chronically at-a-distance, I cannot navigate these distances, I cannot achieve sociality apart from my machine interface” Lash, S (2002). Critique of Information. London: Sage Publications. P15.

Advertisement

Dissolving Edges

I wander my way, into a physical encounter of dynamic relationships between sounds, steps, space and I listen.

”It emanates, propagates, communicates, vibrates, and agitates…binds and unhinges, harmonizes and traumatizes”[1]

My body drifts around the dissolving edges.

p1130465-copyss

The hidden path I follow offers a relaxing stroll, a line etched upon an industrial sprawl. Listen! I hear the distant radios reverberate against the background birdsong beat. A chorus line recites the clanging devices, versus children voices.In the distance, melodies of sweet sirens occasionally disrupted by a rare rustle of the wild.

I am here…

[1] LaBelle, B (2015). Background Noise, Perspective on Sound Art. 2nd ed. New York: Bloomsbury Academic. P xi.

 

Traps for Trespassers

anti-climbsANTI-CLIMB copyright © Olsen 2016

Walking the streets of Dundee, in search for details, I have noticed the lengths people go to in protecting their property from unwanted guests. These deterrents – high walls, thorny hedges and spikes – are a potential cause of injury to unwanted guests. In 1926, Lord Justice Scrutton argued;

“The general principle is that he who enters wrongly enters at his own risk.”

Historically, people have been known to put broken glass along the tops of walls, or use barbed wire fences. This would provide a very inconvenient time for a trespasser who would incur injury from cuts and scratches. The trespasser had no right to complain as a person had a right to defend of their property!”

Time and Law has moved on, occupiers have a duty of care for the safety of visitors using their premises and this extends to some responsibility to protect intruders, including trespassers! However it may be possible to dismiss this duty of care with a sign, warning people about the danger.

 

 

 

 

Flounder on the line

Flounder
copyright © Olsen 2015

Mrs Irean MacCaskie had just purchased a flounder for her husbands’ Friday night tea. It had accidently fallen from her bag as she had crossed the tram line, to catch the busy five o-clock Maryfield tram. As everybody knows dog’s of Dundee are very fond of fish. A passing dog found the flounder and began to scoff it, on the line. An approaching tram failed to impress the dog with the necessity of moving, and the driver was forced to stop his car to avoid a disaster. The dog, stubborn in nature, would not move till it had eaten poor Mr James MacCaskies tea.

 

 

Inspired from a story found in the Dundee Press and Journal, Sunday the 18th of June 1921

Lightening Strikes

Wednesday 18th of June 1952

It was just another ordinary early morning start for Mr Owen Keenlan, he had just started his shift with Mr David Lane, the driver of the Ninewells route. Even though it was early, he felt hot in his conductors uniform. He thought it was going to be a hard days shift as it was so close. He had a headache and this was always a sure sign a storm was on its way.

An empty Ninewells tram slowly left the terminus, on time to a rumble of thunder overhead.  Just as Mr Keenlan was about to hop on board BANG! Lightening struck the rear side of the tram. He thought the lightening hit terrible close to the car and had disappeared down the side near the wheels. Moments later he saw a blinding flash and smoke began to rise from the seats on the lower deck. The driver immediately pulled on the brakes and joined Owen, both men franticly threw sand on the fire, hoping they could keep the flames down till the Dundee fire brigade could finished the job off.

Little did they know, moments later, in another part of the city, four passengers boarded Blackness tram. FLASH! Lightening struck and blew the trams fuses, setting fire to a cable under the seat in the lower deck. The passengers quickly got off as the driver Mr Hadane and the conductor Mr Mullis desperately used bags of sand to put the fire out.

 

Inspired by a story found in the Dundee Press and Journal

 

Tram Terror Tale

Today I walked from Ninewells to the city center, as I walked along the Perth Road I met an elderly gentleman called Lennie and this is this is the story he told.

As a small child Lennie used to get on the number three tram with his mother to the west end of the city, daily around teatime. Lennie usually loved riding the tram, the movement would shunt his body side to side to the sound of clatter- clatter- clatter. But he disliked the daily trip on the number three; he would hide into his mothers’ coat. Every time the passed the shipbuilding yards he would keep one eye on the window, just in case the blood splattered boiler suits would venture onto his tram, but they never did.

As he passed the yard he would peek out of the window, compelled too look at the evil men waiting for their tram home. Smoking, chatting and laughing in line with blood stained boiler suits, hand and faces. He wondered what kind of wickedness happened in the shipyards during the day and what did they murder?

One day Lennies’ mother asked him why he made such a fuss about getting on the number three as he loved riding the other trams. Lennie explained about the blood men and his mother laughed. “Yer talkin mince son, it’s no blood, its paint! They men paint the ships with ox blood lead paint.”

copyright © Olsen 2015

Please look both ways !

Screen Shot 2015-09-16 at 16.52.59

Mr Manson was walking on the busy Victoria road, where the trams pass in both directions. In the corner of his eye, he spotted a wee lad on a bike trying to cross the road. Mr Manson could see that the lad thought he could get out and pass the tram before the other tram passed in the opposite direction. On lookers watched in dismay and the lad nearly made it but was caught just as the trams met. The drivers slammed on the breaks hard and with a high-pitched screech both trams stopped suddenly.

By the time Mr Manson reached the incident, he began to laugh uncontrollably. There stuck neatly between the two trams was the wee lad, still sitting on the cycle looking bewildered. He had been caught between each tram by the handlebars and the look on his face was priceless.

It took ten minuets of careful manoeuvring, easing both trams back and forward before there was room to turn the handlebars and get the bike free.

 

Inspired by a story found in the Dundee Press and Journal